said to her reflection in the rearview mirror. As if in response, her phone vibrated. “Again, Logan?”
He’d been calling every half hour or so since she’d made it through Newark. Despite ignoring him because her phone’s hands-free unit wasn’t hooked up, it had become clear he had a bee in his bonnet. That was Logan in a nutshell: dogged persistence.
Addison pulled over at a gas station and killed the engine so she could answer the phone. “Okay, crazy person. What’s going on?”
“Where are you?”
She pushed the door open and got out of the car. The air was balmy with summer warmth and she took the opportunity to get the blood flowing through her limbs. “I’m on my way to the cottage.”
“No, I mean specifically.” There was an urgency in his voice that made the hairs on her arms stand on end.
She told him the name of the gas station as she walked through its doors. Bright, harsh lighting made her squint and she was hit with a chilly blast of air-conditioning. If Logan was going to hold her up, she may as well grab a drink.
“What’s going on?” she asked as she opened the door to the refrigerator, stilling at the bellowing sound of a semi’s horn on the other end of the line. “Are you on the road?”
Silence.
“Logan Matthew Dane, you better tell me what the hell is going on right now.” She grabbed a Diet Coke and marched to the cashier. The man behind the counter eyed her warily as she handed the money over to him with what must have been a murderous look in her eyes. “If you intend on ruining my relaxing weekend I swear to God—”
“I saw the email.”
She groaned. “Then tell Rhys he’s fired. I mean it, turn around right now and go fire him.”
“That might be difficult.”
Addison wedged the phone between her ear and her shoulder so she could open her drink. “Why would that be difficult?”
“I’m already on the interstate.”
Goddammit. “You’re coming to the cottage?”
She walked out of the gas station, shaking her head. If Logan showed up tonight she would send him straight back home. Or at the very least, to the nearest town. Spending the weekend alone with Logan Dane was not in her plans.
“I’ll be there shortly,” he said. “And don’t take it out on Rhys. He did the right thing.”
“So the right thing is not listening to his boss when she gives him a direct order?” She leaned against her car and tipped her drink up to her lips. “I know for damn sure you wouldn’t let anyone pull that shit on you.”
Another car had driven into the gas station, and the guy gave Addison a sleazy once-over as he filled the tank of his red truck. Grimacing, she turned away.
“That’s beside the point. In this case, we need to take precautions.” Logan sighed. “I realize this isn’t what you had planned for the weekend. But the cottage is huge. You won’t even know I’m there. Unless of course you think my presence is too strong for you to ignore...”
“Your ego is too strong for me to ignore.”
“Ahh, come on. I’m looking out for you, Addi. I promised your dad—”
“I remember what you promised him. But you’re all overreacting. There is no threat. That email was sent days ago, and if Rhys hadn’t found it we’d be none the wiser.” She screwed the cap back onto her drink. “And I would be about to enjoy a peaceful weekend without having you around to bug me.”
“I won’t apologize for being careful when it comes to your well-being.”
She wanted to ask why he thought her well-being was his business. Or his responsibility. But she already knew the answer to that. Two years ago, during her father’s final hospital visit—the cancer eating away at his frail body—he’d passed the baton for her protection over to Logan. It was bad enough that he’d chosen Logan to fill his shoes as the head of Cobalt & Dane, but he hadn’t even trusted her to take care of herself.
“Don’t go into the cottage until I get there,” he added. “Wait in your car and keep the doors locked. I’m not far behind you.”
Gritting her teeth, she ended the call and slid into the driver’s seat. This weekend was going to be a freaking nightmare.
On the bright side, at least now she could count on Logan being at the retreat on time. A wicked smile curved on her lips. If he wanted to play protector all weekend, then she’d give him something productive to do. He hated spreadsheets with a passion, so she’d hand him some of the biannual forecasts to read. That should keep him busy.
She turned the engine over and flicked on her headlights. The sun had dropped significantly since she’d arrived at the gas station. It would be pitch-black soon, and the cottage would be dark. Secluded.
What if Logan and Rhys were right? A shiver raced the length of her spine.
“There’s no stalker, just like there’s no bogeyman,” she reminded herself. “There’s no zombies, no killer llamas, no Freddy Krueger and no...whatever the hell that thing was in Donnie Darko.”
But the words didn’t comfort her. A tiny seed of fear had been planted by the email, and now it was flourishing under Logan’s paranoia. She tapped the lock button and with a click, all four doors secured her inside. Shaking her head, she cursed herself for letting Logan get to her.
As she pulled onto the empty road leading toward the cottage, her lights swept across the horizon. Tall trees rushed past her windows in a blur of deep green. Growing up, the cottage had been her happy place—a haven where she’d spent time with her father and did all the things his busy schedule ordinarily excluded. Like fishing, inspecting butterflies and making homemade pizza.
Lights flashed in her rearview mirror as a car drove up behind her, pulling her out of her memories. The high beams shone in her eyes, blurring her vision.
“Inconsiderate moron,” she grumbled under her breath as she adjusted the mirror to redirect the glare.
The car behind her was close. Too close. Like one sneeze away from a rear-ender close.
“What the hell?” Addison glanced at her speedometer and confirmed that she was indeed driving at the limit. “Give a girl some space, would you? Jerk.”
With one lane of traffic in each direction, she couldn’t pull over to let the impatient person pass. But no cars appeared to be coming the other way, so why didn’t they simply overtake her? She pressed the accelerator down to put some space between them, but the other driver ate up the distance in seconds. The vehicle looked high, maybe a truck of some kind. But the lights were so blindingly bright that she couldn’t make out any specific details like color or model.
“Go around,” she said, motioning with her hand for the driver to pass her.
She reached for her phone and hit redial on Logan’s number. If he wasn’t too far behind—as he’d said—then maybe he could get the plate number.
